PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

All I want is a friend, a fairy tale without "the end".

Wednesday, Jul. 24, 2002
To all you guys out there that fill my guestbook with positive things, thank you guys so much. I appreciate it. Ya know I don�t even mind the bad stuff that people say if they say something constructive to me that they observe. Tell me some thing that I can learn from. Telling me I�m bad or something because I seek human connections. Connections that mean something, is bad�whatever! I never claimed to own perfection. I�m searching for answers myself. But in doing that it�s nice to meet people you can connect with. My concerns weren�t based on �is this guy gonna come sweep me away.� But rather am I going to get attached and he�s going to dump out from that attachment.

I talked with �t� about all of the things that I had concerns over. And I have to say. If anyone�s on the same page with each other, it�s �t� and I. The profile of mine that he came across states�

I'm looking for my best friend. Surely he's out there. I want honesty and companionship...a best friend first. I'm a dreamer who wants to believe in fairy tales...

He liked that. He wanted a friend. I want a friend. I asked for a friend, because that�s greatest gift in life. When someone loves you and doesn�t want to take anything away from you in return. When someone cries when you cry and smiles big when you smile. Life is so fucked. People can be so fucked. If you find someone that you can talk to, someone that wants to know you. Not just your face or your body or your dinners or your generous CD collection you lend out, but the who of who you are. Those are the things in life that are so beautiful. I think too many people misunderstand me. Not just here on diaryland, or in a few nasty ass messages on my guestbook from no name people and psycho followers who share nothing of their own personal struggles either. I am largely misunderstood everywhere. It�s not about me being a teenager full of angst. Because I�m far from being a teenager. I just have a giant capacity for emotion. I�m not a drama queen either. I�ve been accused of that before too, until that person directly spoke to me. I just have an entirely different outlook on what life is all about. It�s about that 2 a.m. phone call when someone out there just needs to hear your voice. It�s about making that friend that is going through a bad time just stop mid tragedy and have a reason to still smile.

We�re here in this world. We�re all here. Sure maybe we didn�t ask to be here. But nonetheless here we are. I don�t want �t� to promise me the world. The world can�t promise itself the world. It�s sometimes a cold dreary place where children murder each other and parents fight in front of the little people they love the most. It�s sometimes that bad awful place where we feel completely alone.

So someone comes along who just wants to know me. And it�s beautiful. And it�s amazing. And it terrifies me because if you know anything about me, I�ve lost everything in my lifetime more than once. I�ve said the words �I used to have�� �I used to know�� �and then he died..� too many times. So �t� starts to matter to me and it scares me inside and out. Just like every other friendship I have scares me. It scares me to open up because that means I am being vulnerable to more loss. I am making it possible each and every time I let someone in.

�t� � �t��. I told �t� I was terrified of his running off. He said, �no I�m terrified of �k� running off. He said, �i don�t want to do anything to hurt you, I think you�ve had enough for one lifetime.� I told him �ok make mistakes, it�s ok, be yourself, it�s enough. Just do anything but don�t go away.� He understands.

The journey called life. Isn�t it hard enough? I just want to look beside me and never be alone. Maybe I�m weak minded. Maybe I need too much from people to make it in this world. It�s just hard to live your life without your mom, without your Dad, without your sister, without your brother, without family. Without connections that hold you in to yourself. And yeah, everyone tells me I am blessed to have my son, and I completely agree. But a 9 year old cannot and should not ever help you carry all the burdens that life hands you. My son deserves to receive from me, not have me take from him


For whatever reasons I can talk to �t�. I just can and I�m so grateful for that. It�s so rare�so hard to find. I always thought I could talk to �him� but the fact of the matter is I just lied to him trying to be something good enough in his eyes. With �t� I don�t ever have the slightest notion to do that. I have learned things.

Last night �t� told me something that just made me smile so huge. And I finally told "him" what�s what. Not mean, just said �look we�re friends�be respectful or shut up.�

Me: its not about finding someone that will listen to you
Me: or someone that is interested in you enough to want to be told
Me: or someone that asks to know
Me: its about finding that and still wanting to talk and share and want them to know too
T: true
Me: ya know I get these random emails from people that say "wow I read this....or I read that and you touched me
Me: and I"m all like "ok that's nice...but I DON'T even know YOU"
Me: I mean I dont' say that but that's what I think.
T: but your work does touch people...It touched me...
T: before I met you...do you think I would have ever considered buying a poetry book?
Me: um...
Me: sure
Me: Computer Poetry
T: LOL
Me: "how to make rhyme and reason of your harddrive"
T: Iol...
Me: t are you telling me that I have had impact?
T: I also liked the quixotic about rebooting too
Me: rebooting...hmmm I don't know if I know which one you mean
T: Yes you have had an impact...
T: it is hard to describe the impact you have had
T: it is like..
Me: i don't know about all of that
T: a computer menu then
Me: ok a computer menu...
T: at the bottom it is reboot problem solved
T: yep
Me: ahhh
T: do you know what is strange..
Me: what?
T: I can't even put a finger on the reason I like it
T: I don't know why I like that particular one..
Me: well don't you wish you could do that in the real world
T: maybe in a way I wish things were that simple or something
T: exactly
Me: solve things with logic is easy
Me: that had to do with all the turmoil and struggle with NC (�him�)(don�t get confused reader)
Me: i just got to where it was like fuck this fuck it all
Me: you dont' want to be real then I'll ctrl alt delete your ass
T: LOL
Me: horrible i know
T: no it isn't
Me: ya know what its like
Me: its like people look at me and see something they want but they don't want it so bad that they ever do anything about it
T: I look at you and I see something that is worth the jouney...
T: even if it is an unfamiliar path
Me: damn you made me speechless
Me: that never happens
T: ..I wasn't trying to
Me: by the way I told �him� tonight that something "good" will never be good if you constantly call it bad and told him not to tell me you were bad because I already knew different. He apologized and shut up.
T: :-)
T: thank you


Incidentally it's not that I think if someone relates to my poetry or likes it that thats a bad thing, its just that if a person knows you, who you are, what you are and they still choose to read your stuff. That's really something else. Ever tried to get someone to read a poem? Someone standing right there? Someone that just doesn't want to? "t" goes and reads my poetry diary. my quixotic diary. he goes on his own accord. Mentions his thoughts. "He" always said "you're a poet on crack...lists of verbs..." And my fave "i don't remember this, i never saw this" When he claimed in the past to "yeah i read it, really i did". phhft..

But in his defense when I asked "him" recently what he ever learned from me he immediately said "that all poetry doesn't suck!" And as a writer, that's a kewl thing to be told even from someone that read my poems halfway through at best. "t" reads me all the way to the...en...

-PoeticaL

10:30 a.m. ::
prev :: next